


This Is It, Boys

by polytropic



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Warning: War, warning: harm to children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polytropic/pseuds/polytropic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guardians win, fear is banished, and somewhere in the world She looks up and smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is It, Boys

**Author's Note:**

> So, I loved Rise of the Guardians! It was a beautiful movie, and I'm probably going to see it again soon because I want that gorgeousness in my eyeballs again. But it also made me SO ANGRY, and thus, I wrote an angry thing because fiction is how I process my emotions. See the end tag for more details. 
> 
> Readers should be advised that this contains disturbing themes including but probably not limited to war, violence, manipulation of children, harm to children, global inequality of safety and agency, discussion of religious hegemony, imperialism, colonialism, and some messing around with conceptions of belief and spirituality. 
> 
> Also apparently this naming things after pop songs streak is becoming an actual tradition or something, I don't even know. Title is from "Some Nights" by Fun.

She waits, twenty years, fifty, enough time for a new generation of children to grow to adulthood. It’s a calculated risk, but as the years pass and the Guardians continue their mission to bring hope and joy to every child’s soul and never question how abruptly they lose interest once the little dears have gotten all hormonal and messy with individuated thought, she starts to understand. They’re never going to catch on. The unquestioning belief of childhood calls to them, and when that belief is not lost suddenly, not snuffed out by a dark menacing enemy all tied up with a nice malicious ribbon to fight, they do not notice the way it changes to become something new. Adult belief is seldom a beacon, in her experience: it’s more often a candle, or if she’s lucky, a flamethrower.

 

The latter is where her attention turns, once enough time has gone by. She doesn’t mind the time spent waiting, whispering softly into tiny ears “Shh, it’s all right, you’re safe, you’re absolutely safe, nothing bad can ever happen, you are right and good and everything is right with the world,” but it isn’t exactly her purview. So she’s relieved to head back to where she belongs, the hearts and minds of a slightly older crowd, and her message fits much better in her throat: “Beat the drums, ladies and gents, and launch on three. They’re out there, waiting, watching, and only YOU can keep us safe. They’re coming for you, and your home, and your family. Stand your ground! No retreat! Protect your interests, baby, because you’re good and right and nothing bad can happen to _you_.”

 

And they listen. Oh, do they listen. She hasn’t had it this easy in centuries; people always listened, of course, but recently they’ve had the nasty tendency to feel _bad_ about it. They didn’t commit. They were grim and determined and afraid. She’s less into that. She likes it when they’re raring to go, when there’s no hesitation.

 

That’s the great thing about a generation that grows up without childhood terrors, with no monsters under their beds: they grow up with no idea how to feel fear, no practice in it. When the adult world infringes, and the real monsters come calling, they freak. It all spills out in messy tangles of rage and panic and entitlement, and she _loves_ that. Those precious emotions are her medium, like oil paint only a little…squishier. She’s a virtuoso at taking all of that confusing feeling and pointing it en masse, telling it, “aim and shoot.”

 

It’s another incredible stroke of luck that out of all the Guardians, Snooze Button and the new kid were the most instrumental in the big fight. Their powers are strong now, waxing, and that’s perfect. She tamps down a little on all of that wonder, hope and joy stuff—it’s less useful—and instead concentrates on the two of them.

 

_Live your dreams. Don’t let anyone get in your way. You have a vision. They can’t see it because they aren’t like you. They want to destroy your dream. They hate it._

_Want to have fun, my grown up kids? Guess what gets your blood really pumping!_

 

The parts of the world that the ensuing turmoil hits hardest are, of course, the ones the Guardians hardly ever get around to. That’s a given. Tiny pinpricks of light and steadfast fire shine from everywhere, but a Guardian will be drawn to the ones that call on them most specifically. The furball with the boomerang might hear faintly the echoes of children in Jaipur calling out “Sita! Sita!”, might spot a feeling he recognizes even though the person it’s tied to is someone quite distinct, but he doesn’t hide eggs for them. When a child in Chengdu loses a tooth, he buries it, no pickup required and no coin left behind.

 

She leaves those kids different presents instead.

 

It’s a glorious time. Her heyday can’t go on forever, she knows that, but that’s the thing about the kind of upheaval she brings: it feeds itself. Her effects will be felt long after the Guardians get wise and haul Tall, Dark and Beaky back out of his hole.

 

 Maybe they’ll come after her, then. She hopes so. She’d like to thank them for making it all possible.

 

After all, the day the Guardians exiled fear was the greatest day of War’s career.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this story grew from my rage at the way that children are taught that certain emotions are not okay to feel. I refuse to accept that there is ever a good justification for making a movie with the message "fear is universally bad, should never be felt or acknowledged, and in a scary situation the only way to prevail is to not be afraid." Fuck that noise. Fear is useful, necessary, and above all natural, and Susan Sto Helit and Kyle Rayner are tired of all y'all trying to shame children out of being afraid of monsters.


End file.
